


Vampire!Peeta

by Professional9100



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Modern AU, There is a character death, cussing quite a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professional9100/pseuds/Professional9100
Summary: I first thought of this back in January. I was imagining how The Hunger Games characters would fare in the world of Twilight and this was born LOLThis is not a crossover. While I am a fan of Twilight, my goal is to not make this in any way similar to it. Just borrowing the universe.Happy reading!Beta: @booksrockmyface
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Mr. Everdeen/Mrs. Everdeen (Hunger Games)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Vampire!Peeta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a trigger warning in Part 1. I've left a sign in the story to warn where to stop (**) and where to continue reading (***). For those who do skip, I've written an alternate version over on my tumblr page so that you won't miss out on anything ;D

Trigger Warning: suicide attempt 

  
  
  


**Long ago, in a small town called Panem, a mother and her child were mysteriously taken in the dead of night.**

**The people were baffled, for nothing ever happened in their quiet, peaceful town.**

**The neighbors heard their screams pierce the night air, then nothing. No one saw where they had gone. It was as if they disappeared, leaving no trace behind.**

**The next night, two women were taken as they were walking home. Only a shoe and a trail of blood were all that was left of them. In the forest surrounding the town, one passerby stumbled upon a body of a man with his limbs strewn about the ground. The man was covered in blood and claw marks.**

**Fearing the worst was yet to come, a few of the men in town gathered weapons and torches to face the threat head-on; meanwhile, all the women held their children close, praying for their lives to be spared.**

**It wasn’t long before they heard a series of howls and rustling from the trees. There emerged a pack of wolves, their size so enormous they overtowered the humans easily. Their large canine teeth gleamed underneath the full moon as they growled menacingly, stalking towards their prey before pouncing.**

**It was bloodshed.**

**Although the wolves greatly outnumbered them, it was the men’s strength and sheer will to survive that helped to beat the odds and win the fight.**

**Some of the wolves fled back into the forest as their numbers began to dwindle, the others were dead with spears or knives protruding out of their bodies.**

**The humans suffered losses as well. Many townspeople who were slaughtered were those hiding in their homes, too weak to fight.**

**More wolves appeared soon after the first, but the people were prepared. The battle ended quicker than before with far fewer casualties on the humans’ side than the wolves’.**

**Eventually, the townspeople could once again sleep without worry, knowing they would be ready to defend themselves against anyone or anything that should threaten that peace.**

  
  
  
  


“Does anyone care for this bullshit?”

The class erupts into laughter at Johanna’s outburst, with one person shouting an enthusiastic “Hell no!”.

Our history teacher, Ms. Trinket, sighs dejectedly. “ _Language_ , Miss Johanna.” 

Johanna simply rolls her eyes and holds her middle finger up in the air behind Ms. Trinket’s back.

Johanna and I don’t agree on much, but this is one of the rare times that we do.

Ms. Trinket, like the rest of the older generation of Panem, seems to take the myths about our town to be fascinating, or worse, real. A few of them include us being a mining town, forcing children to fight in an arena to earn a week’s worth of free meals, or a werewolf hunting town, which so happens to be Ms. Trinket’s favorite myth. 

Based on all the stories we’ve heard growing up, I’m surprised no one has questioned why the hell bad shit keeps happening here. Or at the very least wrote a book about it. 

When the bell rings a few minutes later, everyone heads for the exit. 

“Don’t forget to read chapter 18 before Monday!” Ms. Trinket shouts amidst the bell blaring in our ears, signaling the end of the class day. 

I follow behind Gale’s friends as they huddle around Johanna’s locker, which happens to be next to mine. I key in my combination and drop my history textbook inside as they make plans for the weekend.

“So guys, it’s Friday! I vote to have a party at my house.” 

Finnick, my next-door neighbor, shouts gleefully, grinning mischievously with his arm draped around his girlfriend Annie’s shoulders. 

“I’m in.” Johanna readily agrees, leaning her back against the row of lockers and opening her signature pack of Marlboro, digging out a cigarette and lighting it. “I need a place to crash since my parents are fighting again.” 

“Dammit, Johanna! You use up all my hot water when you stay over.” Finnick complains. Johanna childishly sticks her tongue out at him. Finnick clenches his teeth in annoyance. 

I grab the piece of paper hanging on the side of my locker and read it over one last time, making sure I have everything I need.

**_Tank full of gas. Photo. Letter._ **

I mentally check off all three things and crumple up the paper to toss it in the trash bin. I check the weather outside to find it depressing as ever. 

Panem’s known for being the rainiest, coldest place in existence. However, we do get days where the sky isn’t so cloudy, and the sun can shine down on our miserable town. 

Gale, the only friend I have in this town, nudges my shoulder gently, dragging me out of my thoughts and back to the conversation I was hoping to avoid.

“Hey, Catnip. You coming?” 

“Where?” My voice sounds monotone to my ears, emphasizing how much I don’t want to be a part of this discussion.

Gale elaborates. “You wanna hang at Finn’s tonight?”

I don’t have to guess how the other three feel about including me in their night out to know they aren’t too pleased with the prospect of me showing up at Finnick’s house.

No one wants to invite the sheriff’s daughter to their party or be associated with me in general. I’ll just kill the mood anyway by being there. 

I can hear the whispers now.

_There she is, the sad girl who lost her mom._

_Why does she have to be so moody all the time?_

_Why do I have to be next to her?_

_Get over yourself._

  
  


Ever since the accident that took my mom’s life three months ago, my dad and I were the talk of the town. Once I came back to school, no one came near me as if I harbored some disease. 

Gale and I had only just become friends a few months before the car accident. Although he still spoke to me after the news spread, there were times he would keep his distance from me. 

He’s the one who introduced me to Finnick, Annie, and Johanna. Based on the fact that they never say a word to me outside of class or if Gale isn’t present, I know they only tolerate me for his benefit.

It’s why I’m not going tonight. I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience to them. 

Besides, I have plans tonight. 

Before I can say anything, Annie gasps, catching everyone off guard. 

“Wait. Won’t Katniss’ dad be concerned about a huge party going on next door?”

Johanna points her lit cigarette in my direction accusingly. “Brainless, I want to drink and fuck tonight. Don’t ruin this for me. Tell Sheriff Everdeen to go save some kittens or some shit in Capitol City.” 

I get annoyed at her for the stupid nickname she gave me, then laugh half-heartedly. Of course, she’s only thinking about herself.

“You don’t need to worry,” I say, “It’s not like he’s ever home, anyway.” 

After an awkward silence, Finnick assigns everyone, except me, something to bring to the party.

As Johanna and Finnick bicker about something else that I have no interest in knowing, I decide that’s my cue to leave. 

I slip away unnoticed. 

…....

There’s a large body of ocean on the outskirts of Panem with waters known to have strong currents and is off-limits to the public. Everyone calls it the Sea of Death after they lost count of how many people died there. 

My dad and I were able to escape the deadly sea, but my mom wasn’t as fortunate.

After I park my crappy used car on the side of the road and cross the street to walk through the forest that’ll lead me to the cliffside of the Sea of Death, I think back to the night of the accident.

It was three months ago. My parents and I were on our way home from Capitol City after spending the day shopping, eating dinner, and watching a movie there. We were crossing the bridge that leads back to Panem when a car on the other side of the road collided with us. I’d found out later the driver fell asleep at the wheel.

I only remember a sharp pain in my right temple where my head hit my window when the car slammed against the railing, then us tipping over into the Sea of Death. I’d been knocked out before we hit the water. 

It wasn't until a few weeks later that I woke up lying on a hospital bed covered in bandages and an IV hooked to my arm with my dad sitting in a chair beside me in a neck brace and sporting a few bruises on his face. 

My mom’s boss, Dr. Aurelius, explained that someone was able to rescue all three of us, but that the cold temperature had caught up to my mother too quickly and was pronounced dead at the scene. 

It took my mind a minute to register what he’d said. When it did, I was hysterical. They had to restrain me as they jammed a needle in my arm to sedate me. 

I’d hated it when I fell asleep because every time I woke up, I’d forget my mom was gone. Seeing the dead look in my dad’s eyes was what brought me back to reality.

We had her funeral shortly after we were discharged from the hospital. I couldn’t see her casket being lowered to the ground, so I’d watched my dad instead. 

It was hard going home to be met with silence. 

We didn’t know how to act around each other or function without my mom there. 

I was mute for a little while. I stayed in my room and didn’t get out of bed unless I needed to. 

With mom being the only one of us who could cook, my dad had to make our food now. He struggled to make anything other than PB&J, but he managed. 

I’d lost my appetite after the wreck, only able to stomach a few bites before pushing my food away. My dad would bring me a sandwich up to my room every day, even though I never ate one bit.

I’d often hear him crying in his room at night. During the day, he was at work. Eventually, he’d stayed there. He’d stopped checking up on me, and I grew resentful of him for leaving me to grieve over mom alone.

******

I continue my trek until, at last, there’s a break in the trees ahead. I step through it and come out the other side with the wind slapping me in the face. It's a lot colder up here too, making me wish I'd brought my jacket instead of leaving it in my car. Then I remember I won't be needing it. 

I gingerly step towards the edge of the cliff, peering over it and eye the waves crashing against the wall unforgivingly with slight trepidation. 

Pushing my nerves aside, I spot a rock to sit on and dig through the backpack that I brought with me to find the photograph of my mom. I hold it in my hands tightly so it won’t fly away and study it carefully.

It was taken in the kitchen as she was stirring batter in a bowl with a spoon. I wanted to capture the moment. It was supposed to be a candid photo, but I can see by the tiny lift of her mouth in the picture that she knew about it.

You wouldn’t know my mom and I were related since we look nothing alike. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and light-skinned, whereas I have dark locks, grey eyes, and olive skin like my dad. 

But I’d gotten her smile and nose. 

She’d always tap my nose or kiss it, which was embarrassing then. Now, what I wouldn’t give to have her do it one more time. 

What I miss the most are her hugs. They were always so warm and comforting. I felt safe in her arms as if nothing could hurt me. 

I tuck her photo against my chest and wrap my arms around myself, but it doesn’t feel the same. 

I start sobbing. 

I lift my head to stare at the dark clouds and let the wind carry my words. “Mom, I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t see the point of living anymore. Dad stopped caring a long time ago. I have no one. 

My heart throbs painfully in my chest. Each inhale and exhale feels like a knife through the heart.

But the pain won’t last much longer, I reassure myself.

I put mom’s photograph back in my backpack, then leave it on top of the rock I sat on. My toes dangle over the edge, and then I jump into the sea.

As soon as I’m submerged, what little air I’ve saved in my mouth flies out in small bubbles. I never knew how cold the water was until now. It’s akin to pins and needles all over my body. 

Then that’s when a strong wave hits me in my back and tosses me around like a ragdoll. During all the tossing and turning, my head makes contact with something hard that disorients my vision and takes the remaining breath I was holding in. 

I start to sink into the depths of the sea. 

In the distance, I catch sight of something in the water coming towards me. 

My eyes close of their own accord, and I give in to the darkness.

……

*******

_Where am I?_

_Are you supposed to feel pain when you’re in heaven?_

My body aches all over.

I groan at the sudden headache that pounds away at me. I’m relieved when something sharp pierces my skin, and instantly the pain goes away. I’m back asleep in seconds. 

I wake again sometime later with the chills. I whimper, huddled in the fetal position to try to get warm when a thick blanket is cast over my trembling body. 

As I wait for sleep to find me, I hear voices, distinctively male, from behind me. They speak in hushed tones, making it hard to decipher what they’re saying. I have no choice but to listen.

“She’s fine. Stop your worrying.” The first one says. His low voice carries a hint of an amused tone to it. 

“Is she? She’s not getting any better,” This one sounds younger. I can pick up the concern in his soft voice easily. “I’m going to get Dr. Aurelius. Have him check on her again.” 

A chair scrapes back against the floor. 

The first voice speaks again. “At three in the morning? Son, let the man sleep. You’ve bothered him enough.”

I hear a sharp exhale, then another chair scrape, which I assume it’s the younger one heeding the other’s advice. 

The second man with concern etched in his soft voice, whispers, “I hope she forgives me.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I think she fell in on purpose. I saw her jump off. I waited for her to come up for air, but she never did. That’s when I went in after her.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, “I think you did what you thought was right, son,” The first one reassures. “I believe this girl will see it, too. Eventually.”

It’s quiet for a moment. I wonder if the two men left without me realizing it, but then their voices pick up again, beginning a new conversation.

“I overheard a few officers this morning worried about the chief. How he has every man and woman working overtime to find his daughter,” The older one announces, “As soon as she is able, take her home.” 

A disappointing sigh follows, then the second man says, begrudgingly. “Alright.”

There’s a laugh that sounds like church bells ringing. 

“Be patient, son. Wait for her to catch up.”

Retreating footsteps and a door shut is the last thing I hear from the two.

My teeth begin to chatter as one blanket isn’t enough to stave off the cold. I hear small footsteps coming near me; then, another, even thicker, sheet falls over the first. Ultimately, the warmth I've been seeking reaches me, and I sigh in contentment, drifting off again.

The next time I’m conscious, I wait for pain or fatigue to catch up to me, but neither comes. 

I gingerly lift myself from my lying position to sit back on the surprisingly soft couch, huddling inside the covers as I wonder where I am.

The first thing I notice is the room covered in darkness except for the fireplace. It seems to be the only source of light, seeing as the curtains are closed to prevent any sunlight from entering through. There's also well-furnished white chairs and light gray couches, a large white fluffy rug, and a small mahogany table with a vase of various flowers sitting in the middle. 

The room is elegant; I’ll give it that. Though, I notice there aren’t any frames hanging on the walls or any personal items to make it homier. Only a few paintings adorn the room, one of which catches my eye. 

It's a watercolor painting of a sunset. Amidst the reds and yellows, the orange is what stands out the most. I can identify the artist of this piece wanted to convey how beautiful and serene sunsets are.

I’m still observing the canvas when a soft cough interrupts the quiet atmosphere. 

"Hello. How are you feeling?"

My jaw drops at the sight of him. 

Never have I seen a guy who could rival Finnick's good looks until now. 

He's so beautiful that I'm struck speechless.

I would say he's my age based on his boyish looks. He’s broad-shouldered and has blonde hair that falls effortlessly in waves. But it’s his eyes that I linger on. His shiny gold orbs appear luminous as they reflect off the firelight. 

So beautiful.

When he lifts the corner of his mouth into a lopsided smile, my cheeks grow hot, and I duck my head from his gaze.

He calls my name, and I jerk my head up, ready to ask how he knew it when he interrupts me. “It’s a small town, and you’re the sheriff’s daughter.” 

Oh, right. ‘Course, he knew who I was. Question is...

“Who are you?” I ask.

He immediately grins, as if he was waiting for me to ask him that. 

“I’m Peeta Mellark. It’s nice to meet you, Katniss. Would you care for some hot chocolate?” 

It’s then I notice he’s holding a tray with two steaming mugs. 

After giving a silent nod, Peeta drops the plate lower for me to grab one of the cups and moves to the armchair adjacent to me and sits down. I wrap my fingers around my mug, soaking up the heat, and take a delicate sip. 

_Oh, god. This hot chocolate is amazing!_

I take another sip and another until I finish the entire drink. Peeta slides his cup next to my empty one, and I thank him as I eagerly gulp down the sweet concoction. 

I catch Peeta watching me over the brim of my cup with a small smile, prompting me to send him a short one in return. 

Wait. What?

I touch my mouth in surprise. I haven’t smiled in months. 

I set my drink down, dropping the cocoon of blankets off my shoulders and fold my arms over my chest. 

“Where am I?”

Peeta frowns at my biting tone. “Our home. My father and I. We live in the woods, but we’re not too far from town.”

I wait for him to answer my unspoken question, but he avoids my piercing gaze.

“It was you.” I accuse. 

Peeta flinches and that’s all the answer I need. My hands ball into fists, and I stand up, ready to give this guy hell. 

“Did you think I fell off the cliff by accident?” I shout. “I fucking wanted to die! Why the hell would you risk your safety just to save me? Are you stupid!?"

He may think he’s a hero, but he is _far_ from it. 

I begin to pace as I continue to release my frustrations out at him.

“I planned it all out so perfectly, then you go and screw it all up for me! You don’t know what I’m going through, so what gives you the right to save my ass?” 

I sit back down with a huff. With all my energy spent, sadness replaces anger. The tears begin to form and I’m helpless to stop it.

I whisper more to myself than to Peeta, “I wanted it all to stop. The pain is too much for me to bear anymore.”

I wipe furiously at my face and stare at the wall.

Silence. 

Peeta sighs and I find the sound familiar, but I can’t pinpoint how.

The fire cackles as I wait for him to say something. Finally, he leans on his elbows against his knees, bending his head down to catch my eye. 

“Katniss,” Peeta whispers into the air like a caress. I blush under the firelight and hope he doesn’t notice.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I’ll bet your mother was a wonderful woman and she’ll be missed. And I do know what you’re going through as I have once lost someone very dear to me.”

I sit up straighter in my seat. I did not expect to hear him say that at all. 

Peeta gazes at the fire as he tells me the story about Rue.

She was seven when they met at his and his dad’s bakery. Rue’s mother was in a bind and needed help getting back on her feet, and Peeta’s dad offered her a job. 

Rue helped Peeta in the kitchen by being his “little helper” until she knew the recipes by heart and could do them herself. 

Having been an only child, Rue clung to Peeta. He was like a brother to her. Always helpful and often gave her advice. 

“I blamed myself for not being there for her when I should have been,” Peeta says now, “By the time I got there, it was too late. I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to. Knowing that she wouldn’t ever walk through the kitchen and steal cookies off the tray or hearing her laugh one more time was-”. 

Peeta’s voice catches in his throat. After composing himself, he continues.

“I was a mess for weeks. I kept thinking of ways to end up dead when my dad grabbed me by the shoulders and said, ‘Is this what she would have wanted?’”

“Rue’s mother came by to help calm me down. She’d said, ‘She was taken from us far too soon, but we can do something for her. We live for her. We find happiness because she would’ve wanted that for us.’”

Peeta glances over at me, the light casting shadows across his face, with the most heart-wrenching expression that I had to fight the urge to comfort him. 

“It took me a long time to accept the reality that my best friend was gone. I have good days. Then there are some days that I can’t face the world, and that’s okay. The pain is something that will never go away. You just get used to it. Learn how to get through it without letting it consume you.”

His words bring me to tears. 

I never knew I needed to hear them until now. I didn’t imagine I’d find someone who feels the same way I do. It’s relieving, yet also sad to have lost people we cared about. 

Peeta kneels at my feet and I see not pity but sympathy in his topaz eyes. 

“You’re not alone, Katniss. I want you to understand that. The world may seem bleak and pointless now, but it won’t be forever. Your mother may be gone physically, but she’ll always be a part of you.”

Peeta’s hand goes to touch my leg, but he stops himself at the last minute. Abruptly, he stands, grabbing both cups from earlier, places them on the tray, and leaves the room. 

I’m left alone with my thoughts.

With my dad burying himself in work and practically leaving me to fend for myself and fake friends who don’t give a shit about you, I had to deal with grieving over my mom all on my own. I didn’t have anyone that could relate to me or talk to.

But here comes Peeta, who had gone through the type of loss I have and can still manage to smile and be so optimistic when I didn’t think that could be possible after what we experienced. 

It gives me hope that maybe it could be possible for me too.

Peeta comes back and invites me to take a tour of his home. I readily agree. 

We start in the kitchen.

It’s massive. 

There’s a large kitchen island, shiny ovens, and a fridge with a touch screen. _Fancy._

Next, we head upstairs where Peeta leads me to his dad’s master bedroom, which faces the front of the house. It’s modern-looking with soft tones that would brighten up the room more if the sky outside wasn’t so dark and gloomy. 

Peeta’s dad added a large bookshelf in the corner that not only contains numerous books but a few photographs of him and Peeta in different places. I spot one frame with the pair of them posing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

I follow behind Peeta as he shows me the guest room, the hallway bathroom, and Peeta’s art studio. Peeta only allows me a quick peek before shutting the door. I raise my eyebrow in question and he rubs his neck, looking so cute as he tries so hard to avoid my eye and says, “It’s a mess everywhere. You don’t want to go in there right now.”

I decide to let it go and move along with our tour. 

We get to the last part of the tour which happens to be Peeta’s bedroom. 

I immediately fall in love with it. 

Peeta’s room faces the backyard, his small balcony doors open wide to let the cool air in. 

He has a queen-sized bed against the wall with green and white covers and a small bench at the foot of the bed. There’s also a bean bag chair in the corner with a floor lamp beside it. A thin notebook and pencil are lying next to the chair. 

But that’s not the best part. Peeta’s entire back wall is hand-painted to resemble the trees outside his window. I step further into the space for a closer look.

His attention to detail is impressive. I can’t stop staring at his artwork.

“You did this?” I ask him with wonder in my voice.

I hear the smile in his reply. “Yes. Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing. You painted the sunset that’s downstairs, too, right?” This time I turn back to Peeta and catch his small nod. 

I find his humbleness cute. 

We step out to his balcony, leaning our elbows on the railing, and take in the sounds of nature. Listening to the birds chirping, feel the light breeze in the air, and watch the clouds drifting by. 

During times of silence, my head would often be consumed by negative thoughts. Right now, though, I only focus on one. 

_Mom would want me happy._

I remember all the moments when I was upset or mad, how she would try making me laugh, or patiently listen to me vent out my frustrations.

“Don’t give up,” she’d said after I failed a test, “You’re stronger than you think. I know because when you were born, you’d stopped breathing. But you were a fighter, like your dad. Five minutes later, you were breathing again.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to ward off the tears and take in a steady breath, then exhale. Tilting my head up, I imagine my mom somewhere past the clouds looking down on me. 

_I’ll try one more time for you, Mom_ , I say in my head.

I turn my head and meet Peeta’s hypnotic gaze.

Suddenly, the strangest thing happens. The sun breaks through the clouds and casts a warm light down on us, but the sun does something different to Peeta than it does to me. His skin is shining, no, sparkling. Almost like tiny mirrors are repeatedly reflecting the sunlight.

Peeta’s head jerks back and forth between me and the sun so fast I wonder how he doesn’t have whiplash from it.

Meanwhile, I stand frozen. 

What the hell is going on? Why does Peeta look like that? That’s not happening to me, so why is it for him? 

It’s when he raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun that I can finally move my legs to take off running out of his room and down the stairs to get the hell out of here.

My shoes skid to a halt when my exit is blocked by none other than Peeta.

How did he beat me to the door? How did he get past me on the stairs when I didn’t see him? 

I start hyperventilating. My heart is pumping in my ears and I search in vain for a weapon to use around me. I come up empty.

“Katniss, wait. Please,” Peeta pleads with me, his hands raised in a placating manner, “I won’t hurt you.”

I shout hysterically, “How do I know that?”

Peeta frowns. “Because I would never do that to you. I saved you, remember?” 

Damn. He’s got me there.

“Th-then what was that,” I point in the direction of his bedroom upstairs, “out there? Why were you…sparkling?” 

Peeta stays silent, his face unreadable. 

Just as I’m about to gun it for the door, Peeta straightens up his shoulders with a determined glint in his eye and I know I’ve lost my chance. 

What he says next truly makes me believe I’ve really lost it.

“I’m a vampire.”

Is he kidding me? He has to be joking. 

I wait for him to laugh or give off a telltale sign that lets me know he’s lying, but nothing of the sort occurs.

I start to get mad. 

“Quit lying! Why the fuck won’t you tell me the truth?”

“I am.”

“Do you really think I’ll believe that? Vampires aren’t real!”

“They are,” Peeta argues. “You’ve been taught vampires are a myth—bloodsucking creatures who prey on humans and burn in the daylight. But your history books have us wrong.”

My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. “Hold on. “Us”? There are more of you?”

Peeta nods. “Our numbers have slimmed down over the decades, but yes, there are more of my kind in the world.”

I shake my head in disbelief.

Did he slip something in my hot chocolate when I wasn’t paying attention?

I pace the carpet, biting my nails distractedly. I inhale sharply a moment later when I bite down too hard on my finger, producing a dribble of blood. 

A small gust of wind flies past me, then again. I open my eyes and there’s Peeta, standing mere inches from me. I hold my breath. Peeta slowly takes my hand in his ice-cold one and wraps my injured finger with a band-aid. 

He rubs his thumb delicately over my finger, staring down at me intensely. 

My heart goes into overdrive and my breathing has picked up from our proximity, but I make no move to put any distance between us. 

What’s wrong with me? I should be freaked out. Punch him in the nuts. Find something to hit him over the dead with. Anything. Why aren’t I running?

I am a little scared of Peeta, though apparently not enough that I fear for my life.

Peeta exhales and I blink, struck in wonderment of the intoxicating smell of cinnamon and vanilla. 

I lean in to inhale more of it, but I force myself to step away from Peeta and get a grip of myself.

I can’t do this. I need to go home where everything makes sense. 

“Take me home, please,” I whisper.

Out of the corner of my eye, Peeta doesn’t protest and reluctantly nods. 

He grabs a set of keys hanging by the front door and walks outside with me right behind him. 

There are two cars in Peeta’s garage.

One is a black, shiny car with four small circles on the front grille and blacked-out windows. The other is a gray car, also blacked-out windows, that has a white T in the front. 

We step inside of the black car, and sitting on the passenger seat is my backpack. Once I find the photo inside, I clutch my bag to my chest as Peeta turns the car on. 

We peel away from the driveway, and I watch through the side mirror as the white two-story house disappears further and further until I can’t see it anymore.

.......

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! More coming soon!
> 
> Come chat with me @nearsighted-introvert!


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